


Love You Forever

by Softasamarshmallow



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Mary Doesn't Exist, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cute Sherlock, Daddy!John, Doctor John, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Insecure Sherlock, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Non-Sexual Age Play, Parental Mrs. Hudson, Romance, baby sherlock, baby!Lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:47:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7517542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Softasamarshmallow/pseuds/Softasamarshmallow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...And then John’s gone, the click of the door shutting after him cutting the last thread tying Sherlock to his big self and he flinches, glancing up with wide-wide eyes from where he’d been fiddling despondently with his experiments because daddy’s gone.<br/>He wouldn’t listen and disappointed daddy and now daddy’s mad at him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love You Forever

“-Taking the- shift, so I need you to…-” John is telling him something important- he can feel the weight behind the words but he can’t take them in because he’s struggling, and John can usually tell when this is happening, but for some reason he’s not looking and Sherlock just really needs him to _see._

“Sherlock? Are you even listening to me, Sherlock?” And he wants to, he really does, but he’s stuck between the cusp of being small and the stubbornness of being big and that’s the worst place for him to be at when John is telling him important things.

“Look, I’m already running late, so I really hope you’ve heard what I said but are just too lazy to respond… I’ll see you later, ok?” And then John’s gone, the click of the door shutting after him cutting the last thread tying Sherlock to his big self and he flinches, glancing up with wide- _wide_ eyes from where he’d been fiddling despondently with his experiments because _daddy’s_ _gone_.

He wouldn’t listen and disappointed daddy and now daddy’s mad at him.

And he’s so distracted by his constant glancing at the clock, the passing of time, the unusually long absence of the doctor that he (almost) doesn’t notice that he’s grabbed the wrong chemical to add into the flask he’s holding. _Almost_ \- but it registers in his mind too late, and the flask explodes in his hand, sending tiny sliver of glass into his arms and slicing across his left cheekbone where he’d turned to shield his face.

He throws himself down by the door, tears streaming down his cheeks because it _hurts_ and _daddy- daddy wasn’t home, and daddy was always home when he’s little because daddy said that little boys shouldn’t be home alone, and daddy was angry with him before and left, and maybe daddy wasn’t coming home because he was naughty and- and daddy doesn’t want him anymore._  

And it’s that last thought that finally breaks him, suppressed sobs twisting into heart wrenching wails as he hugs his knees to himself and rocks backwards and forwards, the way his daddy usually did when he was really upset.  

He’s not sure how long he spends in that position- _alone_ -but he thinks it must have had been hours, because he can’t find the energy to sob anymore, just staring numbly at the door. He’s not sure what to do now that his daddy isn’t coming home- he’s much too small to take care of himself after all, much as he hates to admit it, and he’s just so tired now that he’s all cried out. But he doesn’t know how to bandage his still bleeding wounds, and he doesn’t want to get the sheets dirty because he doesn’t know how to fix that either. He doesn’t know how to fix a lot of things, he despondently muses to himself, just like how he didn’t know how to fix _himself_ so that daddy wouldn’t get angry, wouldn’t leave him… wouldn’t stop being _daddy_.

But he didn’t know how to, and now daddy’s _gone_.

“Sherlock?” He hears the gentle call of his name floating through his subconscious mind, whimpering softly with eyes still blankly fixed on the door- oblivious to the appearance of his Grandma Hudson at the doorway. She rushes forward at the sound of his little sniffles, dropping to her knees to comfort the little love; worry thrumming in her veins at the sight of unrelenting tears mixing with the crimson trickling down his cheek.

“Oh my- Sherlock, you’re bleeding! Don’t worry, I’ll give John a call right now and have him come back, and we’ll get you right.”

“NO!” She startles at the sudden yell, hand flying to her chest to calm herself as Sherlock flicks his gaze back to the ground, looking uncharacteristically chastised and dejected.

“No, I- He’ll be angry. I made him angry, that’s why he’s not coming home and I can’t-” Sherlock breaks off with a sob, burying his face back into his arms as he curls tighter into himself.

“Oh, love, he’s just taken the late shift at work.”

“Are you- Are you sure? He’s not angry with me?” Mrs. Hudson smiles sadly down at the little boy, hand smoothing gently through his curls to comfort him as wide teary eyes peer up at her from beneath the mop of curls hidden within his own cocoon.

“Even if he was, he’ll come home, dear. You’ll see. He can’t stay away from you- he needs you, just like you need him. Tell you what, we’ll go visit him at the clinic instead, and he can fix you up there. He won’t have to leave his work, though I’m certain he would want to.”

“I- Okay.” He’s still hesitant about this, but he wants to see his daddy, so he agrees and tries not to worry too much.

He sits quietly in the cab that Mrs. Hudson ushers him into, back stiff and tensed from trying to pass off some semblance of his much more composed adult self- a very trying task for little Sherlock- the death grip he had on his Grandma Hudson’s hand the only thing betraying his infant state of mind.

He hopes daddy still loves him.

“Mrs. Hudson? What are you- Sherlock?? What- How- You’re bleeding!” Sherlock peers out at his daddy from behind his grandma, where he’d been hiding in fear of facing his daddy’s wrath, feet dragging helplessly across the smooth tiles as Mrs. Hudson nudged him forwards.

“You go on, dear. I’ll head on back to Baker Street, and I’ll check in on you later, okay? John will take care of you, so I’ll leave you to him.” He can only nod blankly in acknowledgement, his eyes glued to John, the emotions overwhelming and confusing. It’s not till the door clicks shut behind him, that he lets himself slip once more, tears welling in his eyes and blurring the shocked figure of his _daddy_ \- the realization sinking in that daddy’s got that little furrow between his brows like he usually does when he’s worried and, and daddy _cares._

“D-Daddy…!” He chokes out in a stifled sob, the tears rapidly streaming down his cheeks now as John steps towards him and suddenly, suddenly, he’s engulfed in the familiar warmth of his daddy’s arms.

“I-I’m sorry, daddy, I’m sorry!”

“Shh, sweetheart, what are you apologizing for? You didn’t do anything bad.”

“No, I-I was bad. I wasn’t listening, and I made daddy mad, and t-that’s why…”

“What? That’s why what? Talk to daddy, love.” John coaxes softly, running light fingers down the length of his spine as his boy shivers uncontrollably. He’s still confused, unsure what brought this on, but wishing so desperately that he could take all this sadness away.

“T-That’s why daddy wouldn’t come home, and- and that’s why… daddy doesn’t want me anymore!” Sherlock wails, heart breaking sobs tearing out of his lithe frame as he flings his arms around his daddy and hides in the comfort of his embrace.

“What? Sherlock, no, sweetheart, you’ve got it wrong, I wasn’t- I would never not want you.” John sighs, tightening his grip when Sherlock shakes his head disbelievingly, tucking his head further into the crook of John’s neck. He pressed a kiss to those unruly curls, heart pinching in sadness at his boy’s insecurities- after all that they’d been through, it hurt that Sherlock, both big and little, still believed that he could so easily be abandoned because he wasn’t worth it.

“You left. And I-I was scared, ‘c-cause it hurt, and daddy wasn’t home, and I- I was scared!”

“But I told you before I left, bub… Oh, were you becoming little then and couldn’t understand?” John sighs again, gently pulling Sherlock away even as he shook even more, brushing his damp bangs away from his face and thumbing at his tears.

“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t realize… You know I would never have left you if I’d known you were little. It’s alright, baby boy, no more tears, alright? Daddy’s here. Daddy’s not leaving you.” He soothes, smiling fondly as his little boy starts to calm, sobs turning into adorable little hiccoughs.

“N-Not angry?”

“I’m not angry, you did nothing wrong. If anything, I should be apologizing for not realizing that you needed me then. Come on, little one, let’s get you cleaned up and then we can head home, alright?”

“Okay.” Sherlock sniffles, leaning into John’s side as the older male stood up and moved to sit him on the examination table. He rubbed a closed fist over his puffy eyes, swaying slightly as he yawned, exhaustion creeping in and weighing heavily on his shoulders now that his crying has ceased. John worked quickly, hands moving methodically to clean and bandage the shallow wounds, before grabbing his coat and bundling them both out into a cab.

“You can go to sleep, Sherlock. I’ll wake you when we reach.”

“Okay. Daddy?” Sherlock whispered drowsily, head slumped against his daddy’s shoulder as his eyes started to drift shut. John hummed, combing gentle fingers through his curls to further relax his boy, knowing how much he- big Sherlock included, though the detective would never admit it- enjoyed the action.

“I love you.” John smiles, warm adoration filling his heart as he stares down at the childlike innocence painted on the slumbering male’s face.

He planted a chaste kiss on to Sherlock’s forehead, giggling at the little snuffles emerging with every exhale.

“I love you too, Sherlock.”  
  


_I'll love you forever,_  


_I'll like you for always,_

_For as long as I'm living,_

_My baby you'll be._

_-"Love you Forever" by Robert Munsch_

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So I'm back with another Sherlock fic! Trying my hand at infantilism, since baby!lock is totally my thing haha! 
> 
> As usual, please comment or kudos if it pleases you to do so, and if not, that's fine too, I hope you've enjoyed this! <3 
> 
> Also, I'm not English and this has not been brit-picked or beta'd or anything, so any mistakes are my own and I hope it's not too OOC or too... not British! Oh! And the title comes from a poem called "Love You Forever" by Robert Munsch, which is also the very same at the end of this fic!
> 
> Thank you for reading <3 Until next time!


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